


Under the sign of the Golden Dragon

by Avrina



Series: Tales from the Eastern Kingdoms [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Developing Friendships, Dragons, Dubious Consent, Dwarf History & Lore, Friendship, Kings & Queens, Knights - Freeform, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Magic, Missions, Nobility, Princes & Princesses, Religion, Sexual Content, Sorceresses, Team, Team as Family, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrina/pseuds/Avrina
Summary: Edwin's dream? A quiet life as a priest.His reality? As Dragon Knight rushing from one heroic mission to the next.But the latest mission is different: together with the young noble Alistair, he is to accompany treasure hunter James and his team on their search for a religious artifact.Now you would think that the dangers in the dwarven tunnels, sealed for centuries, would be enough, but Edwin's biggest problem is his new comrades...
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Tales from the Eastern Kingdoms [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630612
Kudos: 2





	1. Being a knight is not always easy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Noble Traditions of Knighthood Are Absolute, Regardless of Personal Relationships](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372396) by [AntagonizedPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntagonizedPenguin/pseuds/AntagonizedPenguin). 
  * Inspired by [Being a Team That Shares a Tent Means That Certain Rules Must Be Observed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716863) by [AntagonizedPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntagonizedPenguin/pseuds/AntagonizedPenguin). 



> Stand-alone story. Takes place 7 years after "The Dragons of Whitehill", but has only small points of contact (like known persons).

The group of riders rushed along the road just wet enough from the spring rain not to create an endless cloud of dust - which was to Edwin's benefit, as he was the last of the group and would otherwise have been half choked. To the left and right the dense forest passed by, as gloomy as the mood of the knights, although the road was wide enough for them to ride in a strip of sunlight.   
Commander Winston's head had already sunk to his chest again and Edwin began to pray once more. That they soon reached a village. That they found a healer. That Commander Winston survived his severe burns.

Edwin was one of only three knights out of fifteen who had survived the encounter with the fire elementals practically unharmed, and had it been possible, he would have willingly taken over part of Commander Winston's pain. It was not fair. Life was too good to him.

"Watch out!" Sir Wyatt shouted from the head of the group, and the group swerved to the right side because a tree had fallen halfway down on the road. Over the hoof patter and the breath of the horses, Edwin heard Commander Winston’s painful moaning, who was now just conscious enough to raise his head, and he shuddered.   
Please, Great Mother, don't let him die.

~ ~ ~

Edwin stepped through the stationary teleport spell and felt his chain mail pull at him for a moment. As every time, short dizziness caught up with him when he opened his eyes and he blinked, blinded by the bright sunlight. Sir Redmond beside him tugged at his tabard and straightened his belt. Edwin tried hard not to make a face, for it was thanks to Sir Redmond that he was dressed up for a simple status report at Queen Romy's, as if for a state reception: above the long chain mail hung the tabard, which, just like the heavy shield on his back, showed the emblem of the Dragon Order; he’d had to put on his ceremonial belt, on which, in addition to sword and dagger, hung his metal-bound (and thus damned heavy) prayer book; he wore arm and leg splints in dragon scale look and was not only washed but also freshly shaved.

_"I know you're tired, Edwin, but next to Redmond and Wyatt you're the only one who's unharmed. I wouldn't ask you to go if I didn't know you were doing your duties excellently, despite the circumstances."_ The words of Sir Michael, second-in-command and in charge of the castle, echoed in Edwin's ears as he descended the endless tower steps behind Sir Redmond. He understood the reasoning behind this, but just as Sir Redmond never missed an opportunity to face Queen Romy to pine at her, so Sir Michael hardly missed an opportunity to _favor_ Edwin; he would have sent him even without Sir Wyatt collapsing from exhaustion. Life provided Edwin with a whole range of things he did not want - including the attention of certain people.

"Now, Edwin... I talk, you keep quiet," Sir Redmond needlessly explained as they reached the foot of the tower.  
"Of course, sir," Edwin confirmed quietly, suppressing a sigh. The palace at Balius had undergone some structural alterations in recent years, and so they were walking across the more or less new courtyard to the main building when a door flew open and Queen Romy rushed through it- a document folder under her arm, the light-blond bun started to fall apart and hectic red spots on her face.  
Sir Redmond made a faint surprised squeal, then shouted: "Your Majesty!"  
The queen- clearly lost in thought- flinched and stopped as if rooted. "Great Mother Earth! Sir Redmond!" Her exclamation sounded almost like a rebuke and Edwin's lips twitched. Then her eyes met his and she frowned. "Sir Edwin. You're back already?" Edwin would have preferred to remain a nameless knight, but the queen was considered very attentive.  
"There have been some unexpected developments," Sir Redmond said with a throat clear and Edwin struggled to contain a snort. The fire elementals they had been sent out for had indeed been unexpectedly aggressive- because some cheeky water sorceress had interfered- but the brutal ride first through Owlgrove and then through Darkmoore, from witch to witch, because the healing pain of one single healing would have killed the commander... no, _unexpected developments_ was Edwin's personal understatement of the year.  
"What am I supposed to imagine?" the queen asked and her frown deepened.  
"Most of us have been badly burnt and it is a miracle that Commander Winston is still with us," Sir Redmond replied earnestly.  
Queen Romy sucked the air in sharply and almost dropped her documents. "Oh Great Mother..." She wiped a few strands off her face. "I'm going to send some healers from Feather Springs," she said and started moving backwards towards the tower where the teleport spell to Whitehill was located. "And as soon as I can, I'll come by myself."  
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Edwin uttered, to say something at least.  
"Was Sir Michael with you?"  
"No, Your Majesty."  
"Then I will come back to you for a fuller account."  
"At your service, Your Majesty." Sir Redmond saluted and Edwin, likewise raising his hand, could barely suppress a snort - everyone in the Order knew Sir Redmond wished to serve the queen behind closed doors.  
Queen Romy hurried away, leaving behind a hint of her sweet vanilla scent.  
Sir Redmond sighed, but the usual heartache was mixed with fatigue. Still, Edwin prudently allowed a little time to pass before clearing his throat.  
"We should return to the castle."  
"Yeah," Sir Redmond said stretched, "you're right."

~

Using another teleport spell so soon after the first one left a queasy feeling in Edwin's stomach, which didn't fade away when he walked through the dragon castle. Maybe he should go to the kitchen and get something to eat before he lay down, there was always some stew and bread.  
He stepped onto the large main courtyard where a dozen knights were training, and when he had crossed the courtyard halfway, he realized sullenly that the clanging sound caused an unpleasant throbbing in his head. Rubbing his temple, he raised his eyes when he heard a familiar voice.  
"He's not ready yet." At the edge of the court stood Garett, King of Threehills, and Sir Owen.  
"The Order needs scholars," Sir Owen growled, wiping sweat from his brow; the way he held his huge broadsword loosely in one hand, it looked as light as a walking stick (which it was _not_ , as Edwin knew from experience).  
"He's only a novice, he's practically just started his studies," Garett protested further, and Sir Owen sighed.  
"The boy has basic combat training and is the one who's fucking our heraldic animal, so his place here has been set in stone for years." It was about Emmett, Garett's cousin, that much was clear to Edwin, and once he'd matched the voices, he found it hard to shut his ears. Not for the first time in his life, he cursed his good hearing and raised his eyes to the keep as a distraction. There the crests of Threehills, Darkmoore and Whitehill were painted around a large three-headed dragon and pride warmed his chest, for the honor of putting the crest of Threehills on the stones had come to Edwin's sister Evelyn.  
 _"...who's fucking our heraldic animal..."_ The heraldic animal of the Order of Dragon Knights was of course a dragon, but besides the blue and black Joey- who often passed by together with Emmett- King Samson and Prince Richard were dragons as well. And the way Sir Owen had said this made Edwin shudder - he had images in his mind which had no place there.  
"Hey, Edwin!"  
Edwin turned and saw Garett waving, but he just raised his hand in greeting, hoping that his tired expression was enough. He was in no condition to balance on the thin line between friendship and polite distance to his King. But Garett nodded at him and with a relieved sigh he stepped into the cool castle keep.  
As he walked along the corridors to the large dormitory, he let his fingers slide over the rough stones and thought of how he and many other knights had helped to build the Dragon Castle - which was still not finished. The fact that he came from a family of stonemasons was only an advantage, and he smiled faintly at the memory of how his little petite mother ordered a bunch of knights around, shouting loudly.  
"Edwin."  
He winced. "Sir Michael." The last person he wanted to see directly before his well-earned nap.  
"Where has Redmond gone?"  
Edwin shrugged. "Got out of the teleport and ran away like a rabbit."  
Sir Michael raised an eyebrow. "Did a big bad wolf chase him?"  
More like the big bulge in his pants, Edwin thought, but said: "I didn't see one."  
Sir Michael grinned as if he'd read Edwin's mind and then made an inviting gesture into the Commander's study, in whose door he stood. Not knowing what was to be asked of him now, Edwin hesitated briefly but then closed the door behind him.  
"The report was apparently quite short," Sir Michael noted and threw a quick glance out of the window down into the courtyard.  
"The Queen almost ran us over in the courtyard," Edwin replied honestly. "She said she would come by as soon as possible and check on Commander Winston. And send healers over first. And come back for the report to Sir Redmond."  
"Well, he'll be pleased." Sir Michael smirked again and Edwin allowed himself a smile. "Sit down, boy." And before Edwin could protest, Sir Michael added: "I've had the others bring a sleeping potion. I can fetch you one if you like." On the one hand, Edwin was grateful for the offer, for the potion gave a deep and refreshing rest to body and mind, but on the other hand, everything in him resisted Sir Michael's paternal tone. Edwin hadn't been a child for a long time and even though his father had been dead for many years he didn't need a surrogate father.  
"Thank you, sir," he said politely and obviously a little too stiffly, for Sir Michael's smile flickered for a moment. Then he patted Edwin on the shoulder.  
"Sit down, boy, before you fall over."  
Thanks to the armrests, Edwin had to remove the shield to sit down at all, but even then, he balanced on the edge of the chair because of the sword. On the other hand, the visitor's chair in a knight's commander's study probably hadn't been designed for comfort either, so Edwin didn't find it difficult to direct his thoughts to prayer, considering each of his injured knight brothers individually.

Nevertheless, he was startled when Sir Michael returned with a steaming cup in his hand.  
"You really deserve a bit of rest, all of you," he said and Edwin accepted the cup with a muttered "thank you, Sir". The potion smelled sweet and sticky, like honey and lavender, and tasted heavenly, Edwin knew by experience. He lifted the cup to his lips, hoping that he wouldn't dream of Sir Michael's almost loving smile - the man wasn't even old enough to be Edwin's father - when there was a knock.  
Edwin let the cup sink and Sir Michael's smile was replaced by a frown.  
"Come in."  
Edwin turned and saw a boy standing there- a messenger boy, quite out of breath.  
"What is it?" Sir Michael wanted to know slightly irritated, and the boy took a deep breath before coming out with noticeable practice:  
"His Majesty King Samson wishes to see a ready-to-operate and highly trusted knight at once." The boy's sentence became a little shrill towards the end and finished with a breathless whistle. Even before Sir Michael reacted, Edwin seriously considered choking down the contents of the cup - after that he had an estimated half hour before he was unresponsive for the next twelve to eighteen hours.  
"What is this all about?", Sir Michael asked, now more worried than irritated.  
"A religious state affair, Sir," replied the boy with as much seriousness as his voice change would allow, and Edwin lifted the cup to his lips again.  
"Edwin?"  
Too late. "Yes, Sir?" Did he sound pitiful? Perhaps a little.  
"Would you handle this? You're the most religious knight we have." Since he was ordained a lay priest, it was an indisputable fact. "And you're already dressed for an audience with the king." Again, this was undeniable, and Edwin sighed deeply enough to express his displeasure, even without words.  
"Of course, Sir," he said quietly, placing the cup carefully on the desk in front of him. His hands had already trembled with exhaustion when he was shaving earlier and, as he picked up the shield, which suddenly seemed to weigh several tons, and slung it back on his back, he wondered of what use he would be if he fell asleep standing up during the meeting with the King.  
"Thank you, Edwin," Sir Michael said earnestly and Edwin nodded silently. He had wanted to become a priest, nothing more, and had wished in all modesty to be assigned to a church that owned one of the many new Sacred Groves. He had wanted peace and quiet and plenty of time to read, had wanted to help people with their personal problems, had wanted to teach the children religion and its texts... And now he was a dragon knight, fighting against magical creatures that had been springing up like mushrooms in autumn in the last years, and had to take a lot of mockery for his character. There were certain other things that worldly life brought with it, he preferred not to think about at all.

Instead, he crossed the Dragon Castle again - the messenger boy had already hurried away. He knew that many envied him for his life, Great Mother, even some of his fellow knights envied him for his friendship with King Garett and the benevolence of Sir Michael, but he didn't want all that. He would have loved to read Mass in the cathedral three times a day for the rest of his life, if in exchange he could forget the sight of Sir Robert torn apart by a dragon. Or the sight of the remains of Sir Finley, who had been shock-frozen and smashed to pieces by a mad wizard. Or the painful moans of Commander Winston, which had robbed Edwin of what little sleep he could theoretically have had in the last few days.

Disgruntled, he looked at the pink teleport spell and his stomach started rumbling. He fought the rising nausea down and bit his tongue, so as not to say anything the Great Mother might have resented, then stepped on the glowing lines.


	2. At least nobody can say living as a Dragon Knight is boring

Edwin would have found his way to King Samson's public study on his own, but he was not offended by the servant who accompanied him there, knocked and then literally pushed him in.   
"Your Majesty- ies." Edwin's gaze twitched only minimally surprised from King Samson, who was just taking something from his eerily tidy desk, to Queen Romy, who was sitting at the small round boardroom table, and on to the muscleman in grubby clothes with a strange cut, who stood beside the table with his arms crossed.   
"Sir Edwin." The queen raised her eyes and frowned. "Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"   
"The King has called for a knight for a religious matter-" Edwin began at length, but was interrupted by King Samson:   
"I have sent for a knight ready for action, and you- no offense- don't look very fresh at all." He sounded critical and the queen sighed.   
"We should have a word with Sir Michael."   
"I suppose so."  
Inwardly, Edwin grimaced; when it came to it, he preferred to be far away on a mission. But before the conversation could go on about him or the Dragon Order, the door opened again. Edwin, who noticed that he was actually standing in the way, stepped aside a little.   
"My King," said the newcomer respectfully and bowed his head greeting the Queen. Edwin knew enough nobles to know when he had one in front of him- the young man seemed to have just outgrown his teenage years and seemed strangely familiar to Edwin, but his tiredness could also fool him.

"Very well," King Samson began without beating about the bush. "Alistair, Edwin- this is James, a treasure hunter. He has... oh, please, explain yourself."   
James, the muscleman, gave a consenting growl and nodded before saying: "Usually the artifacts and treasures don't make much difference to me, but dwarf stories are my... hmm... hobby. I collect pretty much everything I can find about them, and recently I stumbled upon two interesting things. First, a kind of description of entrances to the dwarf realms, where strangers are or were welcome, and second, a reference to a gift from the dwarves to the Queen of Darkmoore."   
For a moment, Edwin's thoughts turned to the tired question why he was actually standing in King Samson's sober study and not in Queen Romy's comfortable chaos, but Alistair cleared his throat.   
"I beg your pardon, but didn't the dwarves already withdraw from the surface before the first defensive war?"   
"Yes and no," said James, and the King tilted his head.   
"One of the dwarf clans supported the rebellion wars for a time. And supposedly left a footnote in the Appleberry bloodline."   
"However, the aforementioned gift really dates from before the first defensive war," Queen Romy said seriously. "The then queen, named Charlotte, was given the title of stone healer by the dwarves of the eastern Karasso Mountains. My family records speak of a great favor she did for the dwarves, but I cannot say anything more specific."   
"The favor must have been quite a big one if the dwarves wanted to give her a religious statuette made of dragon gold," James remarked with a critical expression. So now religion came into play.   
"Probably, yes." The queen nodded, but shrugged at the same time.   
"Do the dwarves share our faith?" Alistair sounded skeptical and Edwin listened up.   
"There are some similarities," James said cautiously and Queen Romy nodded slowly.   
"They have a Mother of the Stone that can be equated with the Great Mother, but their everyday religion is more about their ancestors."   
The keyword ancestor worship made Edwin think of his family, of his father, whose last wish had been for Edwin to become a knight. Or his great-grandfather, who was still reverently spoken of in the stonemason's guild. He could still faintly remember the wizened old man and thought, not for the first time, that he would have had his bright joy in the Dragon Castle.

"... as a dragon. One of the reasons for the always close friendship with Darkmoore, who always had a special connection to the dragons".   
The word _dragon_ startled Edwin.   
"Interesting." Alistair actually nodded with interest, and Queen Romy briefly pulled her lips to an implied smile.   
"James, Darkmoore supports your efforts on behalf of our ancient friendship with the dwarves."   
"Not to mention curiosity about this ancient gift." King Samson smiled for a moment, but then he got serious again. "Whitehill is curious as to the whereabouts of the dwarves. We are of the Old Blood and have lasted long, but the dwarves are even older. You have our full support."   
Edwin had missed of all things the explanations about the religious aspect and thus probably the explanation why he was here, but to ask would be embarrassing. So he calmly returned King Samson's look.   
"Sir Edwin, I send you in the name of the Dragon Order to assist James' quest, if you feel up to it."   
"Of course, Your Majesty. I just need a little sleep." To refuse would have been foolish, he'd have disappointed two of the Order's three patrons and violated his duty and honor. It didn't matter how tired he was.   
"You can catch up on your sleep," Queen Romy said almost gently. "The scribes still have some documents to copy and preparations have to be made."   
"Alistair, this is the chance you asked for," King Samson said very seriously and the young man nodded.   
"And I am taking it."   
Something about Alistair struck Edwin as odd, and James didn't look too keen to take a very obvious greenhorn with him either, but he didn't protest.   
"Can we leave in the morning?" he wanted to know instead.   
"So far there's no reason why not." King Samson nodded and Edwin nodded as well, because he felt addressed. He had no idea what exactly this job actually looked like- travelling to the mountains and looking for dwarf tunnels? To wander around in the tunnels and see if the dwarves were not extinct after all, as the stories told?

"Edwin, you can rest right here in the castle. I'll see that your equipment is ready."   
Edwin nodded again and blinked violently. His vision blurred a little and only King Samson's slightly worried face was sharply visible. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, a little dizzy and felt somewhat nauseous as he turned around to follow James and Alistair outside. Halfway through the door, however, the movement stalled, for while they were trying to get out, someone wanted to enter- according to the black-blue clothing, probably scribes.   
"And you really want to acknowledge him when he comes back?" Queen Romy's doubtful whisper made Edwin's ears twitch, but the fact that he had to take two steps back to let the scribes in didn't make it any better- he couldn't shut his ears.   
"I have no choice, dear. He's an Appleberry and a nobleman as well," whispered King Samson back and then said much louder: "Please, gentlemen, the selected documents are on the table."   
Edwin hurriedly stepped into the corridor and rubbed his eyes. He was to rest in the castle, but for that he needed-   
"Sir Edwin?"   
"Your Majesty?"   
King Samson had followed him into the corridor and for a moment Edwin wondered if it was obvious, he had heard the whispers.   
"May I ask you a question? Or maybe two?"   
"Of course, Your Majesty," Edwin said in surprise, trying to concentrate, which became increasingly difficult; was the castle swaying or was it him?   
"Why did Sir Michael send you, when you are not really fit for duty?"  
"The messenger spoke of a religious state affair. I am an ordained lay priest," Edwin replied and the king nodded.   
"What country are you from originally?"  
The question now actually surprised Edwin. "Threehills, Your Majesty. I was trained with King Garett." He was not sure why he added that, and it was probably a mistake, for the King's face suddenly became very critical.   
"You didn't by any chance come to the honor of serving Prince Gavin personally?"   
Edwin blinked irritated until it dawned on him. "Oh. Oh, no! No, that... chrm... that was the other Edwin." Still, he blushed, because two blond Edwins of almost the same age... well, that had led to one or two embarrassing misunderstandings.   
King Samson seemed relieved and then beckoned a servant. "Get some sleep."   
"Yes, Your Majesty."

~

Edwin woke up with a headache, as if he had a terrible hangover, and it took him quite a long moment to realize where he was. It was a simple guest room in the castle and he couldn't remember how he had got here, let alone how he had got out of his formal clothes. He was just swinging his legs out of the wonderfully soft bed when there was a knock.   
Only in his underpants did he go to the door and blinked sleepily at a servant who smiled at him politely.   
"You are awake, good. You are expected for breakfast."   
"Breakfast?" Apparently, he had slept more than twelve hours even without the sleeping potion.   
"Please, sir, get dressed. I'll wait for you here."   
Edwin nodded silently, still not quite awake, and closed the door. As neatly as his clothes were draped on and beside a chair, someone had helped him, and he was both grateful and embarrassed about it.

Quickly he washed his face and then slipped into his shirt and pants before he got into his boots. He took the sword and his prayer book off his belt before he put it on, and in the last movements he went to the door. The servant nodded at him and Edwin followed him down the corridor for a bit to a large bright room with a long table where only James and Alistair sat, a big breakfast in front of their noses.   
"Your breakfast will be brought to you presently, sir."   
"Thank you," Edwin said, a little uneasy, and walked along the table until he reached the other two. "Good morning," he greeted and sat down beside James.   
"Good morning," echoed the two.   
"Slept well?", Alistair asked in a good mood.   
Edwin nodded silently.   
"Good," James growled and bit into a sandwich. "The king has ordered you to go to your castle and get your stuff." He spoke with his mouth full and Alistair made a little grimace in the rain of damp crumbs.   
"All right," Edwin said quietly and nodded. Another servant than before hurried up and put a plate of a very sumptuous breakfast before Edwin, another brought him a cup and a new pitcher of tea. Edwin's stomach, which had already missed dinner, grumbled at the sight of the steaming scrambled eggs and Edwin began to eat, partly so that the silence would not be uncomfortable.

When he turned to a cheese sandwich afterwards, he was already awake enough to peer secretly at his new comrades.   
Alistair was really quite young, a handsome boy who lacked the final touch of manhood. The dark blond hair was fashionably short and the green eyes flashed happily; when he gave Edwin a short smile, he felt he knew him from somewhere, but he really couldn't place him.   
James, on the other hand, must have been ten years older than Edwin, who was approaching the thirty himself, and was staring out into the void under bushy eyebrows, while he ate. His hair and beard were black and shaggy and, like his clothes, looked grubby and unkempt - apparently, being a treasure hunter was not very profitable. But Edwin now recognized the sense of the strangely cut short shirt sleeves: they left the biceps completely free, so the dragon tattoo on the right arm was visible.

"So, boy... " James growled in the direction of Alistair. "Can you do anything?"   
Visibly offended, Alistair's lips curled. "I am a Sunflower and have received the appropriate education and I can fight."   
"I want to see that tonight."   
"With the greatest of pleasure."   
Edwin raised his eyebrows - if the two couldn't stand each other, the job wouldn't be fun.   
"What about you? You're a knight?"   
Edwin nodded. "A dragon knight, yes, and an ordained lay priest."   
"Why not a knight of the church?" Alistair asked curiously.   
"Circumstances did not permit it." In return, he received questioning glances, which he ignored, and added: "Besides, church knights only go out for missions if there is actually a religious reason."   
"So a religious gift between two religions that are not really connected is not a sufficiently religious reason?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.   
"Knights of the church are usually quite particular. Not to mention the high priests to whom they are subordinate," James said, nodding to Edwin. "A lay priest is probably enough. If the dragon knight can fight for it."   
"He can," Edwin reassured him and turned back to Alistair. "But the gift mentioned was to go to the Queen and not to the Church. This is then not a gift between religions, but rather a gift between monarchs with a religious background. A gesture of respect and friendship."   
"The members of the Old Blood are, however, in a certain sense religious figures. After all, they are the descendants-"   
"Great Mother, not in the early morning," James grumbled in between and rubbed his eyes. "Save such discussions for the road."   
"Where exactly are we going?" Edwin asked cautiously. Enough mountains to look for access to dwarf tunnels did exist in the Eastern Kingdoms.   
"First, the Golden City," James replied, emptying his tea cup.  
Edwin blinked confused. The Golden City was in the free lands and according to the maps, it was the flattest flat land the Eastern Kingdoms had to offer. Dwarves were not rabbits after all.   
"The Golden City?", echoed Alistair as irritated as Edwin felt.   
"Pick up my team. And then we go west, to the South Mountains." James nodded and Alistair frowned.   
"Why don't we just meet your team at the foothills of the South Mountains?"   
"Because I've had to leave my team in a pretty bad state. My mission, my rules, get it?"   
Edwin involuntarily ducked his head at James' intonation, but Alistair's lips curled again reluctantly. Fortunately, he said nothing.   
"Edwin, go get your stuff. Alistair, pack your things. I am going to see the king."   
"Okay." Edwin said simply, and stood up.   
Alistair looked as if he was going to protest, but did not, instead he nodded and stood up as well.

At the end of the long table, Edwin and Alistair came together and their eyes met briefly.   
"What a grump," the young nobleman murmured, who, as Edwin noted, was a good deal taller than he was.   
"Perhaps," Edwin cautiously returned. He didn't want to fool around with James as head of mission, nor with Alistair as the son of a great noble house.   
Alistair grumbled to himself and then they walked silently down the corridor for the short distance till they arrived at their guest rooms. A fine apple scent tickled Edwin's nose and despite the rich breakfast his stomach rumbled at the thought of a fresh juicy apple.   
"Hey, Edwin, hurry up," James shouted after him from the dining room door.   
Edwin glanced briefly over his shoulder and nodded before entering his guest room. He remembered that King Samson had wanted to take care of Edwin's equipment, but whatever. That at least gave him the opportunity to officially sign off.


	3. Not everything shiny is gold - not even a nicely wrapped adventure

Edwin closed the buckles of the saddlebags and hesitated. The metal-bound prayer book lay next to them on his bed - his most precious possession. Normally he took a normal prayer book with him when he left the castle, but in this case things were different. While packing, he had thought about Alistair's words and was wondering why the king and queen did not send a church knight. But who was Edwin that he would need an answer?   
He briefly touched the magically reinforced small pouch on his belt, which contained two magically protected vials: blessed oil, as used for baptisms and funerals, and the blood of a dragon. Joey's blood, to be exact. It burned on the skin and Edwin had been once in his life unlucky, because after his declaration as Dragon Knight, the blessing signs, which this time had not been painted with oil but with blood, were still visible for almost two weeks.

With a suppressed sigh, he fastened the heavy prayer book to his belt and was about to reach for the saddlebags when someone entered the empty dormitory.   
"Edwin..."   
"Sir Michael." Besides Commander Winston, Sir Michael was the only one who already had a private bedroom - so he had no reason to be here. But he came over to Edwin, a faint smile on his face, and Edwin wondered briefly why, because he had already officially signed out in the study - Sir Wyatt had given him a rather pitiful look.   
"I wanted to say goodbye. You will be away quite a long time," Sir Michael said as he reached Edwin. Edwin shrugged half-heartedly.   
"I know. But I-"  
"You should have stayed and rested a while longer."   
"I wasn't hurt, Sir, and I'm-" He broke off when Sir Michael, in a fatherly gesture, put a hand to his cheek- he had to control himself not to flinch.   
"Take care of yourself, boy." Something in Sir Michael's gesture, in his voice, felt terribly wrong and so Edwin took a half step back; Sir Michael's smile flickered.   
"Of course, Sir. Please excuse me, the others are waiting for me."   
"Of course. I... I didn't want to delay you." Sir Michael nodded and seemed... disappointed.   
Edwin quickly straightened his shield on his back and grabbed the saddlebags, then hurried away.

~

In the castle he was shown the way down to the stables and when he arrived there, he raised his eyebrows. He had been worried that his shield with the Order's crest might be too flashy, but Alistair, who was wearing a bright yellow shirt whose color made his hair look dirty-blond, would attract every attention.   
"That's not my horse," he complained just as Edwin approached. From the large stable gate came two more grooms with horses for James and Edwin, and Edwin nodded at the man, while from the background someone coolly said:   
"Our king thought it appropriate to provide you with a solid mount. Your handsome parade horse is not made for adventure."   
Edwin briefly raised his eyes and saw Knight Commander Gordon, brother of King Samson, who gave Alistair a critical look. Hurriedly, Edwin turned back to his saddlebags and routinely checked the horse's equipment - a slender red-brown mare - while Alistair and Commander Gordon talked too silently even for Edwin's ears.   
"You should have stayed at home," the commander finally hissed and Alistair hissed back furiously:   
"I've been thrown out, what should I do?"   
"Have you finished?" James' voice startled Edwin.   
"Yes. I'm ready." He nodded at James, who had frowned and absently took the packhorse reins; the worn handle of a sword loomed over his shoulder.   
"Alistair."   
The young man made an annoyed sound.   
"Mount up," James growled and Edwin swung into the saddle. Actually, he had hoped not to ride for a while after that terrible trip, but that was life. "Alistair, I said mount."   
Edwin glanced over his shoulder and suppressed a sigh, for Alistair almost affectedly slipped into a green riding coat and gave James a gloomy look before he picked up a sword belt from somewhere and wrapped it around his shoulder. The sword seemed unusually slim and long and Edwin wondered if the boy could really handle it. Only then did Alistair mount and nod.  
James growled and Commander Gordon politely said:   
"Have a safe journey."   
"Thank you, sir," Edwin said automatically, while James merely nodded at him.   
"Off we go!"

~

They remained silent as they followed the main road south and Feather Springs disappeared behind them. The apple trees so typical of Whitehill were scattered everywhere and were in full bloom - it was a beautiful, peaceful sight and Edwin, who thought he could almost smell the delicate scent, thanked the Great Mother from the bottom of his heart for this beautiful spring day.

"Tell me about yourselves."   
Edwin winced when James spoke out of the blue.   
"I want to know who I'm working with."   
"Haven't we been through this already?" Alistair asked.   
"No, we haven't."   
"Why don't you start?"   
"Because I'm in charge here."   
"What do you want to know?", Edwin asked in between; he really didn't want the two of them to be on each other's throats the very first day.   
"I want to know who you are and what you can do. How useful you are, what I can count on."   
At James' sharp look Edwin nodded.   
"So, boy, get started."   
"Age before beauty."   
"Boy, if you don't want me to shove your sword full length up your ass, you'll talk now." Apparently James' patience was quite short and Alistair was clever enough to answer.   
"I am Alistair Sunflower and I'm turning 20 in two months. My grandfather has forbidden me to become a knight, but has hired a witcher to train me and some of my cousins. I can fight, read runes, know the basics of non-magical wound healing and can climb quite passably." He snorted. "Oh, and I can read and write too."   
Edwin withheld a chuckle at the tone of his voice, although he was a little impressed. He had worked with witcher at one time or another and they were usually a close-knit bunch who didn't like to share their knowledge. But on the other hand, it was said that the Sunflowers had both children and money like seeds in a sunflower: in abundance.   
"Only runes or also witch language?" James calmly wanted to know.   
"Just runes."  
"Hmm. Tonight you will show me how you can fight."   
"I'd be pleased."   
"Edwin?"   
"Yes?"   
"Your turn."   
Edwin cleared his throat embarrassed. "I'm Edwin Mullen, and I just turned 28 three weeks ago." Was there any relevance other than the fact that Alistair was legally a child? "I was for two years part of King Garett's Prince's or Kingsguard and am now a Dragon Knight. I am an ordained lay priest." He paused to consider what he was actually good at. "I have a good ear and a good sense of direction, I'm quite good at climbing and I picked up a few things about dragons."   
"Climbing is good," James remarked, seeming pleased.   
"Mullen... isn't that the lord on whose land the Dragon Castle was built?" Alistair asked curiously.   
"Only a third of the castle stands on Threehill's ground," Edwin said, but nodded. "But yes, said land belongs to Lord Mullen." He should have left it to a simple _Sir Edwin_ , but it was too late for that now. Presumably James now put him in the same box as Alistair. "What about you, James?" he asked cautiously and James gave him a brief smile.   
"What about me?"   
"Well, aren't we supposed to know whose orders we're taking?"   
Judging by Alistair's snorting, he must have taken a different view about taking orders and James had a short laugh.   
"I'm James, 34, and I'm a treasure hunter." That was all.   
"That is not very meaningful. How do we know we can rely on you?" Alistair remarked pointedly and although Edwin thought he was right, Alistair's tone of voice was a bit rude.  
"I'm a farm boy from Sunplains," James said earnestly, giving Alistair a hard look. "I became a mercenary because my father got sick and we couldn't keep the farm; my mother could only get the two of them through with her day's work, but not a teenager with a constant hunger. I stumbled upon my first relic rather by chance, and from then on it became a kind of self-starter." He shrugged. "Killed two dragons with my team, sat in jail for a while every now and then, had fun with boys and girls..." Again he shrugged, but then he seemed to hesitate. "Speaking of which... we are a mixed team. Do you have a problem sleeping in the same room or tent with a woman in case of doubt?"   
"I suppose not," Alistair said and now shrugged himself.   
"Uh...I'd like to avoid that," Edwin said quietly. To his relief, James just nodded.

~

Except for a few instructions or remarks, they remained silent for most of the day. Alistair's question about James' team at lunchtime was dashed off and Edwin spent the afternoon between a bad-tempered James and an offended Alistair.

Just as he was considering how long they would ride on, James asked:  
"You know how to set up camp?"   
"Yes, sure." Edwin nodded and James pointed to the edge of the forest a bit in front of them.   
"Camp?", Alistair asked irritated.   
"Don't tell me you've never slept outdoors before."   
"...behind the house as a child," Alistair reluctantly admitted and Edwin suppressed a sigh, but it was James who growled:   
"Watch and learn."   
"B-but..." Alistair's protest died before it had really started and a few minutes later they had reached the edge of the forest. Edwin prepared the fireplace, James collected wood and Alistair took care of the horses - at least that he could do.

As dusk fell, Edwin set the small fire and James drew his sword.   
"Well, boy... show me what you got."   
"What, with no armor on?"   
"You got one?"   
Once again visibly offended, Alistair pulled out of a strangely shaped bag what turned out to be metal-plated leather breastplate. This was joined by arm splints and a kind of skirt made of leather strips. Edwin looked at the armor in astonishment and curiosity at the same time and James seemed to be interested as well. Knowing that Alistair had been trained by a witcher, it was obvious what the armor and his sword were based on.   
"All right," James finally said, nodded and pulled out of his luggage a heavy long chain mail and arm splints.   
The two men gave a strange picture, Edwin thought, but perhaps that was simply because he rarely saw anyone fighting without a shield. He almost burned his fingers as he watched his fellows and realized that James was holding himself back - Alistair was too inexperienced and would probably not survive a real fight.

This was the thought James later expressed when Alistair was already exhausted asleep.   
"We must get him in shape."   
"Are you expecting trouble?" Edwin wanted to know.   
James shrugged. "Trouble is always to be expected. The free lands have lived up to their name since the nomads have become fewer and fewer: practically everything and everyone is outlawed there who does not bear a clan mark. And the Golden City is a hot place anyway."   
Fantastic prospects.   
"And the dwarf thing?"  
Once again, James shrugged. "Either everything's fine down there and just uninformed - which I don't believe - or down there pretty much everything is dead."   
" _Pretty much everything_ can mean a lot," Edwin noted cautiously.   
"Sure it can. That's why I like to be prepared for all eventualities. And that's why I want this kid here every night to exercise."   
Edwin nodded and looked over at Alistair. His face was relaxed in his sleep and he looked even younger.   
"Tomorrow you'll show me what you can," James then said and stretched, his shoulders cracking.   
Edwin nodded again.   
"Are you awake enough for the first watch?"   
"I'm all right." Edwin smiled confidently but couldn't convince James.   
"Wake me if you get too tired. I value a functioning team, that includes getting enough sleep."   
"Sounds good to me."  
James just nodded and then lay down.   
Edwin got up and stretched his legs a bit, petted the horses and peed a distance away before he went back. Embarrassed, he noticed that James had slipped his hand into his pants, but apparently it was a habit, because the man was snoring softly. Alistair, on the other hand, seemed to be used to a large bed, as he rolled around and stretched all four limbs, so Edwin quickly and carefully pushed his arm away from the fire.   
And then he paused.   
The apple scent that had been tickling his nose all day was eerily strong for a moment, even though there was no apple tree in sight. Irritated, he massaged his nose and frowned. Alistair sighed and again spread out his arm dangerously, but this time Edwin took his wrist and put his arm across his chest. In doing so, he bent over the boy and was just able to suppress a sneeze because the apple scent rose violently into his nose. Confused, he tilted his head and looked at Alistair for a moment before he understood.   
Alistair smelled like apples. Which meant that Alistair had to be an Appleberry. A bastard.   
Stunned, Edwin stood up and took a walk around the camp when he remembered what the royal couple had said. They had spoken of acknowledgement.   
_"I have no choice, dear. He's an Appleberry."_ It had almost slipped his mind because of fatigue, but now the remark about the requested chance also made sense.  
But the realization lay heavy in Edwin's stomach. King Samson was a hero who had killed seven dragons as a young man and saved his wife's throne. It was said that the council of the sages of Darkmoore had given him his dragon form as a reward. A few years ago he had taken on a village full of witches to save his sister's children. It was said that the Great Mother had blessed him and his queen, so that the Old Blood mixed with the Dragon Blood of the Redthornes had caused a shapeshifter to be born - Prince Richard.   
The only blot on the man's face was his son Matthew, who had already scandalously fathered a child at the age of fifteen - and as a reward would soon become King of Ringbay.   
But Alistair clearly smelled of apples- Edwin actually sniffed the sleeping man again- and that could only mean one thing: Alistair was an Appleberry bastard.   
Edwin touched the prayer book he still wore on his belt. "Great Mother, please don't punish the boy for the sins of his father," he whispered. Strangely enough, it was always the bastards themselves, who had no fault for their existence, who suffered.

_"I have no choice,"_ King Samson's echoed voice in his head. _"This is the chance you asked for."_   
Anything could happen in the dwarf tunnels and Alistair was young and inexperienced.   
Edwin refused to think that King Samson deliberately sent his bastard into danger and accepted that he might die there - Great Mother, or that he supported this expedition solely because he hoped he would.   
No, Edwin refused to believe that.   
On the other hand, he had unceremoniously disinherited Prince Matthew because he had been in bed with the wrong girl, so the appearance of a bastard would be rather... inglorious.

The thought kept Edwin awake, long after he had later woken James. And when Alistair gave him an encouraging smile in the morning- which actually reminded him of King Samson- as they swung onto the horses, he wondered for the hundredth time what the consequences would be if Alistair returned alive.


	4. Keeping silent together is one thing...

Edwin enjoyed the silence.   
James obviously found the silence pleasant as well.   
Alistair seemed to get nervous through it. However, he kept his mouth shut and Edwin was thankful for it because he had the dull feeling that sooner or later Alistair would talk himself into a full-blown argument with James and Edwin could do without. So, apart from grumbled instructions, they remained silent until the evening.

This time it was Alistair who went to collect wood and Edwin took care of the horses while James took care of a fireplace and sleeping places.   
"There's a pond back there," Alistair announced when he returned. Edwin, who had already flinched at his voice, found the sound of the wood crashing to the ground uncomfortably loud. "No duckweed and crystal clear."   
"Good." James nodded at Edwin. "Then we can wash up after the fight. Are you ready?" In wise foresight, Edwin hadn't taken off his breastplate and nodded. He patted the neck of his mare, whom he had named Glimmer, and went to his things to get his sword and shield.   
"It's a mystery to me how you can stand that thing all day long," Alistair said, tapping his own chest at Edwin's questioning gaze.   
"Is a knight. Without armor they feel naked," James said lightly and Edwin smiled crookedly- James was quite right. With sword and shield ready to fight he went, rolling his shoulders, towards James, who in the meantime had also thrown on his chain mail and now drew his sword. It didn't really surprise Edwin that James attacked out of motion and because the strike- despite the size of the sword- was rather sluggish, Edwin moved a little aside and raised the shield. He had fought with Sir Owen often enough to have no great difficulty with James - he was younger and faster than the aging redhead, but probably rarely faced a trained knight.

"You are good," said James after a while and Edwin shook his head.   
"I am no more than average."   
"I think it's impressive," Alistair said honestly and James rolled his eyes which only Edwin could see.   
"Take a leaf from our knight."   
"I would like to keep it intact, thank you."   
James laughed, made another half-hearted attack and then stopped the practice fight. "Well, you know what you're doing. As do I. So... together we're gonna fix this kid up."   
Alistair narrowed his brows critically but before he could say anything James added:   
"We will be on the road for more than four weeks" - both Alistair and Edwin grimaced - "and we will use the evenings wisely." More than four weeks to get to the Golden City? And then again so much to reach the mountains? And then? How many months would it take to find this artifact? Edwin hadn't really thought about this kind of question before, but now he shuddered as he stowed away his sword and shield. He took off the breastplate and scolded himself; he had a duty to perform and on the second day he had a first touch of homesickness - what a great knight.

"Take care of the fire, while- oh Great Mother, don't say you don't know how to make fire."   
"No?" Alistair's sheepish answer was almost drowned in James' annoyed sigh.   
"Okay... okay, Edwin, go wash up, I'll build a fire."   
"I can also-"   
"Buzz off."   
Edwin half shrugged, picked up some clean clothes and disappeared into the trees. The pond was not far away, half hidden behind bushes and surprisingly large, but quite shallow. It was already pretty dusky here in the woods and the glow of the fire would not reach this far, so Edwin quickly undressed. As he pulled the shirt over his head, his necklace got caught in the lacing, but before he could reach for it, the heavy ring on it hit him painfully against the collarbone. With a grimace on his face, he rubbed the aching spot and silently begged for forgiveness for not showing the ring the respect it deserved, but any thought of it vanished as he set foot in the pond. The water was freezing cold and the bottom was covered with coarse gravel, on which he promptly started to slide. He set the second foot with greater caution and then squatted down carefully. The cool evening air was already cold on his heated skin, but the water... he hissed suppressed as it sloshed into his lap.   
Quickly he washed the travel dust from his face and sweat from his skin and wondered if he had packed a bar of soap - Alistair certainly had some - as James stepped around the bushes.   
"Fire is burning," he growled and Edwin nodded. James undressed while Edwin really started to freeze and took a moment to consider getting out - but James took the decision for him. With momentum he stepped into the pond, slipped on the gravel, grabbed Edwin's shoulder for support and Edwin lost his squatting balance to fall on his butt. The cold water was extremely uncomfortable in his crotch and butt and he hissed again while James regained his balance and noticed:   
"Pretty cold."   
"Hmm-mmh." Hurriedly Edwin washed between his legs and then climbed shivering out of the pond.

  
  


Edwin and Alistair sat silently by the small fire, although it was clearly visible that Alistair would have liked to say something.   
"If you look so gloomy now, what's it going to be like in a few weeks?" James approached naked, dripping wet and with his clothes in his hand. Alistair simply skipped over the remark.   
"I'II go and wash quickly... "   
"Not recommended," James simply said and Edwin, who already had a remark about the darkness on his tongue, swallowed it because obviously James' penis was about to flag down. Edwin quickly averted his gaze but nevertheless registered more tattoos on James' body: a kind of leaf tendril on the right hip and thigh, something like a warrior figure on the chest, a second dragon image on the back and a dagger on the left calf. Edwin didn't like tattoos much, but he noticed Alistair's curious look.

"Okay, guys," James then began, as he was dressed and sat down by the fire and opened the provisions bag, "tomorrow we're coming to an inn. Neat food, neat wash tub, neat bed. Maybe we will meet someone there who can tell us something about the eastern roads - I came over the southern roads and they were a disaster in places."   
Edwin and Alistair nodded and accepted their dinner.   
"Alistair, you've got the first watch."   
"Okay."   
They ate in silence, though not soundlessly- how could a single man-James- make so much noise just by chewing? But Edwin didn't want to think about it any further, so he rinsed the last bread crumbs out of his mouth with a sip of water and reached for his prayer book. Instead of opening it, he closed his eyes and let his fingertips slide over it- a trained exercise to distract himself from his sensitive ears and find inner peace. He was familiar with the symbols of the seven Sacred Trees engraved in the metal, arranged in a circle as if for a Sacred Grove, as well as the image of a statue of the Great Mother enclosed in it.

When he opened his eyes again after his evening prayer, James gave him a fine smile. He noticed Alistair's stare from the corner of his eye and turned to him. The young man blushed.   
"May I see the book?" he asked in a whisper and almost reverently.   
Edwin nodded and passed it on with a smile.   
"It's really beautiful," Alistair said only slightly louder than before and also stroked the engravings. "Simple, but beautiful." He turned the book over and looked briefly at the Mullens' crest, which was engraved there: two circles next to each other, from the intersection of which a tower of six circles rose, tapering upwards - a symbolic mullein. At the sight, a visible shadow flitted over Alistair's face and he gave the book back to Edwin.  
"Why did you become a knight and not a priest?"   
"It was my father's last wish."   
"I see..."

It was more than just that. Edwin's family - especially his father Robert - had not approved of sending a little boy to the monastery, even though it was his wish. They comforted him with the promise that if he still had the wish at 14, he would be allowed to follow the clerical path with the blessing of the family.   
When he was 13, his older brother Erik had been knighted. He had come home for a few weeks, half the small town had celebrated and Edwin remembered that Erik had even argued with their parents for Edwin's dream.   
With the turn of the year, Edwin had started counting the days, climbing the church tower almost daily because from there you could see the monastery he wanted to join.  
And then came the letter that Erik had died on duty. It had broken Robert's heart and the former knight, who had taken early retirement after losing his sword arm, had aged twenty years within two weeks. It was more of a coincidence that Edwin had been with his father during his last moments, but said coincidence had caused Robert to make him promise to join the Order of Knights in honor of his brother.   
Edwin could have lied, or at least concealed it, but he had been honest. The remorse about this hit him when he first entered the barracks in Seven Hills a few weeks later, and he was still regretting it today, 14 years later.

With a snap he tore himself away from the memories and stowed the prayer book in his luggage. Sometimes he wondered if it had been a test from the Great Mother and if so, whether he had passed. He liked to convince himself that he had made the right decision, because denying a man his last wish seemed dishonorable to him.   
On the other hand, this had led to blood sticking to Edwin's hands.

"I'm sure your father would be proud of you," Alistair said quietly, giving Edwin a smile that told him he had to make quite a face. The boy seemed so innocent that a wave of bitterness swept over Edwin.   
_As if you had any idea..._


	5. ... fighting together another

Edwin sighed, rolled his eyes to the sky and begged the Great Mother for mercy before looking at James, who looked as if he had deliberately left his brain behind during the midday rest. Shortly after they left the inn in the morning, Alistair had started talking and - apart from a short break for lunch - he had been babbling non-stop ever since. Full of delight, he looked at the flowers along the way, rejoiced like a small child over two squirrels and commented with a lot of imagination on the appearance of gnarled trees. The words flowed out of him and Edwin hoped that the rain-laden clouds that had been gathering over them for a while would not soon follow.

"If the boy won't keep quiet for dinner, I'll make sure he does," James growled quietly.   
Alistair, who had fallen back a bit, was amusing himself about a tree fungus.   
"He's probably making up for what he's missed the last three days," Edwin said, suppressing another sigh. James mumbled a rude insult and then said more clearly:   
"Then I hope his speech pattern normalizes soon. I'd hate to cut out his tongue." With his grimly annoyed look Edwin was not sure if this was a joke or not but James rolled his eyes. "Don't look so shocked, you innocent lamb, it was a joke. But with him, such threats should help."   
"You're scaring him off."   
"So what? Did he want to come with me or did I want him to?"   
Edwin averted his eyes, for once again the question arose as to what would happen if Alistair returned safely.   
"Don't lag so far behind, boy!" James then shouted to Alistair.   
"I have a name!" Alistair shouted back, but encouraged his horse.   
"I'd call my own son _boy_ , too, so you'd better get used to it."   
Alistair made a face.   
"Take it as a compliment," Edwin suggested conciliatory, but Alistair frowned.   
"I have a father."   
_Dangerous waters_ , Edwin thought, but James said earnestly:   
"As long as we're underway, I'm your legal guardian."   
"What?" Alistair was horrified.   
"King Samson has given me-"   
A soft metallic scrape pricked Edwin's ears and his head jerked to the right, his index finger lifted by itself as a warning and James broke off in the middle of the word.   
It was silent for a long moment and Edwin casually registered that Alistair also kept his mouth shut.   
"Did you hear something?" James asked in a relaxed manner and Edwin glanced at him - the treasure hunter was not half as relaxed as his voice suggested.   
"Probably just an animal that wouldn't be frightened away by Alistair's chatter," he said and shrugged, but a muffled scuffle resounded again from both left and right. He pretended he was going for the reins, but visibly spread his fingers for James to indicate that whoever-it-was was on both sides.   
James sighed and dismounted. "While we're stopping..."   
"What, are you trying to impress a wild boar with your dick?" Alistair mocked, and when Edwin turned his head he saw that the boy had obviously understood.   
"Watch what you say, boy, or-" The rest of James' threat remained unspoken, for instead of unlacing his pants, he drew a dagger and threw it into the bushes. Edwin saw the blade bore into a man's forehead- quality workmanship as it effortlessly cut through bone- before the man sank back into the bushes. At the same time, he reached over his shoulder for the edge of his shield, pulled it onto his arm and grasped the handle; without strapping it down it was more unstable, but there was no time for that now. Then he slipped out of the saddle and drew his sword.

They were bandits. Edwin couldn't say how many, but they were a respectable group, albeit with bad weapons. The two men he killed first had short swords, not unlike his own. The third one also carried a small shield that looked like it should have been the seat of a chair. As Edwin turned to a fourth man who had previously tried in vain to lead the horses away, Alistair cried out in the background.   
James cursed and then the clumsiness of his opponent almost became Edwin's doom as his longsword broke on Edwin's shield and he tore the weapon around in fright so that Edwin's block was suddenly useless and his counter almost drove him into the broken blade. At the last moment he was able to deflect the rest of the sword and slashed only his thigh, not his abdomen. He screamed, rammed the shield into the man's face and heard a faint cracking sound. The man collapsed and Edwin drove around because Alistair screamed again.

The young man was harassed by two men who were also wielding longswords and, to Alistair's misfortune, they did so much better than Edwin's opponent. In addition, Alistair's movements were not precise enough and revealed his fear. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he ran to his aid while James cursed again in the background and yelled something Edwin didn't understand - it sounded like a challenge though.   
Edwin leapt forward, raising the shield and taking a blow that would have split Alistair from shoulder to crotch- provided the sword was sharp enough, but for sure nobody really wanted to know. He held his arm really high - longsword, Edwin, longsword -, wound his way underneath and thrust the sword into the attacker's stomach from below. Over the shield he let the sword slide to the side and pulled his own sword back before it could be torn out of his hand. When he turned around, Alistair cut the other bandit precisely in half at the waist.

For a moment, the rushing in his ears and his own heavy breathing was all Edwin could hear, then James shouted:   
"That's it!"   
As if it were a command, Alistair dropped his sword and staggered back a step. "Oh Great Mother," he whispered in horror, "Oh Great Mother!"   
Edwin looked over to James, who carefully touched a wound in his shoulder, then stuck his sword into the soft ground beside the road before he slung the shield back on his back. "Alistair..."   
Alistair gasped and trembled.   
"Alistair..." he repeated softly and James asked:   
"Your first dead?"   
Alistair couldn't even come up with a real non-verbal answer and Edwin slowly stepped upon him, gently took him in his arms and then turned so that Alistair could only see the trees. The young man was shaking violently and it took a moment before he literally clawed at Edwin. Edwin had had a similar reaction when he had killed for the first time, and there was a good reason why he was usually sent to the missions with the wild magical creatures.  
  
"You know they would have killed us, don't you?" he asked quietly, when at least Alistair's breathing had calmed down a bit.   
"Yes," Alistair whispered strained.   
"Good. These men have gone astray from the right path and are unlikely to get a place at the side of the Great Mother, but you have nothing to blame yourself for, Alistair, you were only defending your life." Before Edwin could say any more, James groaned in pain.   
"Could someone lend me a hand?"   
Alistair let go of Edwin and stumbled in James' direction; he did not cry, but it would come.

~

The fire crackled quietly and one of the horses snorted while the three humans remained silent. Alistair had resented James for simply leaving the bandits lying around, so Edwin had now, after dinner, read some of the more significant passages from the Mass for the dead. He put the heavy book aside and, seeing Alistair's hands trembling, said softly:   
"Don't let it upset you. The first fight is always hard."  
Alistair shook his head, his face contorted under a wild mixture of emotions.   
"We'll look after you," Edwin continued and Alistair snapped:   
"I don't need anyone to look after me!"   
Edwin flinched, but said calmly: "That's my job, that's what I swore to do: To protect people. And I don't care if it's a helpless child or an armed man."   
Alistair made a strange sound somewhere between snorting and sniffing and James said:   
"I was serious earlier though. For the duration of this expedition you are my ward and I fully intend to return you to King Samson in one piece." He sounded as if he had wanted to say 'to your father'. "And so I will stick to my plan. I don't care how many times you take up your fleshly sword as long as you cross that of steel with us first."   
A bitter twitch lay around Alistair's mouth as he raised his eyes and nodded after a moment. Then his lips began to tremble and Edwin caught James' gaze. The treasure hunter almost showed something like a sympathetic smile and Edwin touched Alistair gently on the shoulder.   
"I..." That's all the boy could bring out and Edwin made a quiet "shh" as he gently pulled him towards him.   
"The first time is hard for everyone," he said quietly, pressing Alistair's head against his shoulder even more gently, leaning his cheek against it and then began quietly reciting a sermon on the cycle of life and death that he had already learned by heart as a boy.   
Alistair began to sob, clasping his fingers in Edwin's thigh - luckily the uninjured one - and finally began to cry.


	6. Even conversations in dark night can be enlightening

The inn emerged from the veil of rain like a divine apparition. Edwin, wet to the bone and cold, thanked the Great Mother; Alistair gave a relieved sigh and even James, after three days of travelling and sleeping in the constant rain, was ready to lower himself to murmur thanks to the Great Mother. Blinking against the rain, Edwin asked:   
"Do you think there's a stable in the back?"   
"It looks big enough," James growled and dismounted a few steps further; his boots made a loud _splash_ in the mud. "Wait a minute, I'll go ask."

It wasn't two minutes before he came back.   
"Even got two fellows to take care of it."   
Again Alistair sighed in relief and Edwin also dismounted.   
"Come along, beautiful," he murmured to Glimmer and James sneezed.  
"Great, that's all I need."   
"Don't pass it on to us," Alistair grumbled, slipped in the mud as he tried to dismount and fell on his backside.

~

The wetness had found its way into the luggage, but damp clothes were better than dripping wet ones and anyway: in the large dining room of the inn a big fire was blazing, there was hot tea and after a mixed plate of bread fresh roast would soon follow. Edwin closed his eyes for a moment and sipped his tea.   
"Boy, line up," James growled and Alistair made irritated:   
"Excuse me?"   
With a frown, Edwin opened his eyes.   
"Line up, come on." James nodded in the direction of the back wall of the room where there were no tables - the place was probably used for musicians or suchlike.   
"But... we're eating."   
"I don't care, the roast still needs time anyway. Line up."   
"James, I'm-"   
"Lineup."   
"tired and frozen"   
"Line up!"   
"and hungry and"   
"Move it!"   
"and I don't even have my sword here."   
Alistair's protest only made James snort in annoyance and lean to the side to pull the sword out of Edwin's sheath. It had been more of a habit that he had put the sword belt on, even though they were in a peaceful inn with only a handful of merchants as additional guests.   
"Take and then do as I tell you, before you find something bigger and much more unpleasant in your ass than your tender fingers." At the threat, Edwin blinked in surprise, but Alistair clenched his jaws and snatched the sword before stomping over to the open space. He took a fighting stance, which looked ridiculous in his usual pose, but with a simple sword.   
"More to your knees," James shouted and Alistair rolled his eyes before he obeyed. "Back straight and lower."   
Edwin recognized the drill and was already beginning to feel pity.   
"Further down, further down... good. Sword higher. Shoulders straight."   
Alistair already groaned and a smile played around James' mouth. Continuing to sip his tea, Edwin watched uninvolved as James and Alistair snarled at each other over Alistair's shoulder movement before James stood up and walked over to the young man. Edwin didn't see exactly what James was doing - he grabbed Alistair's shoulders - but Alistair cried out in pain.   
"Now hold that."   
"What?" Alistair gasped, but James turned and went back to his seat.   
"Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?" Edwin wanted to know quietly and put down his empty tea cup. James had already been quite rough with the boy the last few days as far as the evening training was concerned.   
"The world out there is not a walled courtyard, you should know that," James returned and gulped down his own tea.   
"Of course I know that, but to treat Alistair like that is not... you know..." Edwin got a wry look.   
"Are you going to pamper him because he's a royal bastard?" James asked so silently that the group of merchants two tables away certainly couldn't hear him.   
"No, but... come on, James. You're not fair."   
"Life, especially the road, is not fair, Edwin. Some people learn that the hard way." James sounded bitter and Edwin saved himself further discussion. But then James surprised him by saying:   
"Be nice to him. I think he could use it."   
"No kidding."   
"I'm not talking about _me_ , tin can. When I find my team back safe and sound, I'll be nice too. But until then..." Meaningful he twitched a brow and Edwin sighed. A glance at Alistair later he stood up and walked over to him. Alistair's legs and arms were already trembling, but his eyes grew big as Edwin took the same stance.   
"You know, it's almost relaxing without armor." Edwin smiled and Alistair made a grimace.   
"Don't bullshit me."   
"I'm not. It's just years of drilling. It helps if you concentrate on something completely different. Like praying."   
Alistair made a tortured sound. "Seriously?"   
"Try it." Edwin's smile widened before he started. He glanced briefly at James, who gave him a narrow nod, then Alistair joined in the muttered prayer.

~

Edwin hoped very much that James' team was a cleaner bunch than their leader. He ate like a pig and had simply dropped the cloth he had used to wipe himself clean after the fun-with-the-hand. The smell filled the air of the guest room- which was already damp, stuffy and sweaty- even more. And now that James was snoring softly, Alistair seemed to be doing the same.   
Edwin pretended to be asleep but then realized that Alistair was just rolling around in the creaking bed. It took a long time before the young man lay still and his breath indicated that he was finally asleep. Edwin sighed and rubbed his face before getting up and stepping to the window. It was steamed up and the hinges squeaked slightly as he opened it; James snored a little louder and Alistair sighed softly. Outside it had stopped raining and the cool air flowed refreshingly into the stuffy room. In fact, Edwin felt a little reminded of the dormitories of the barracks or the Dragon Castle and felt a little homesick. Especially his comrades - the familiar faces and common rituals - were missing.

"Under the dragon banner we are riding, under the dragon banner we are fighting. Under the dragon banner we are one, under the dragon banner we are united," he murmured soundlessly, recalling the painted crests on the keep, and looked up at the dark sky. In the backyard of the inn a lonely lantern was shining and its light sparkled in several puddles. A night bird screamed and Edwin sucked in the fresh air - and then he flinched when Alistair stepped beside him.   
"Can't you sleep?"   
"No." He could only see Alistair indistinctly, but he looked extremely tired as he opened the second wing of the window and then leaned on the windowsill. "What's wrong?"   
"I don't know ", Alistair murmured depressed. Edwin remained silent for a moment before asking:   
"Is it still the bandits?"   
"Yes. No. I don't know." Alistair rubbed his face. "I'm homesick," he finally said.   
"Is this your first time away from home?" Edwin asked gently and Alistair nodded.   
"I had hoped that in Feather Springs..." His voice got lost and again Edwin was silent for a moment before he asked his question.   
"Why did you leave home in the first place? I mean, after all, you're legally a child, and that's important among nobles..." He already knew the answer, or at least part of it, because it was probably more complicated than _'I was thrown out'_. Most answers were more complicated than they seemed.   
Alistair snorted, but it was a shaky sound. "I've been thrown out." He gave Edwin a quick glance. "My grandfather saw to it that I got a proper education and when he died, my uncle just kept the old business going. Was too busy whoring around. Last winter my uncle died and after that one of my aunts and a cousin fought over the position of head of the family. In spring my aunt won... and threw me out."   
"And your mother?" Edwin dared to ask quietly.   
"Died when I was little. I can't remember her." He sounded bitter and sad at the same time, a little lost, and Edwin nudged him gently with his shoulder.   
"Then this is your big chance. To leave your family behind, to find out what you want."   
Alistair snorted. "It's not about what I want, Edwin. You became a knight because _your father_ wanted you to- are you happy about it? No? You see. Now, don't give me your pious sayings, please. You have a nose, you know what I am."   
"I-"   
"It doesn't matter what I want."   
"Then why are you here?"   
In fact, Alistair swallowed his first answer to that and seemed to think about it.

They remained silent for a while and Edwin started to shiver a little when a fine wind started to blow.   
"Why are you so nice to me?" Alistair suddenly wanted to know and Edwin raised his eyebrows. "Because James is such an ass? Because I'm a royal bastard?"   
"I don't think you can answer simple to that," Edwin said slowly. Alistair may have been a spoiled brat, a bit conceited and proud like all the Appleberrys, but he was a good guy, had a good heart. And it was definitely not his fault that he was young and inexperienced, that he was suddenly in an expedition he wasn't prepared for. Edwin could see it boiling in Alistair, could almost hear the young man's different aspects arguing with each other because he had no idea who he was, where he belonged and what he wanted.   
Alistair still looked at him questioningly and Edwin leaned against the window frame.   
"The Sunflowers are a pretty big family, aren't they?"   
Alistair made a face. "My mother had eight full siblings and another six half siblings. You can guess how many cousins I have. But I suppose it's hard to imagine how lonely one can be in a crowd..." It wasn't that hard to imagine, at least not for Edwin, but he hadn't minded being alone most of the time. Alistair, on the other hand, had a completely different temperament, was a social person, and probably withered in solitude like a thirsty flower.   
"You would fit in the Knights Order pretty well," Edwin said, and Alistair looked up in surprise.   
"Do you think so?"   
Edwin smiled and nodded. "You're a bit old to be a squire, but I think this sort of community might suit you."   
"You seem to give me a lot of thought."   
"You know, James isn't the only one who wants to get you back to Feather Springs in one piece. No bastard chose to be born, but-"   
"Let it go, Edwin," Alistair sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I told you before, you don't have to protect me."   
"And I told you before, I don't care."   
"You don't have any younger siblings, do you?"   
"No, older ones. Why?"  
"You sound like some of my cousins when they argue with their younger siblings." Alistair sounded a bit melancholy and Edwin smiled at him gently.   
"If you want, I can adopt you for the rest of the trip."   
With a quiet laugh Alistair shook his head, but his smile and wry look told Edwin that he liked the idea.

They stayed by the window for a while but the wind got stronger and finally Alistair was the first to turn away to close the window.   
"Will you protect me from James, too?" he wanted to know as he took the sash out of Edwin's hand and locked it.   
"You're old enough to argue with Daddy yourself," Edwin jokingly returned and Alistair pulled a pout.   
"You're a treacherous big brother."   
"Go to bed, kiddo." Edwin had to look up at Alistair, but he still stuck out his tongue childishly and Edwin grinned.   
As annoying as Alistair sometimes was, he liked him.


	7. Joining an existing team means opening a surprise box

The water was warm - at least until the sand suddenly descended. Edwin hadn't seen the step coming and fought for his balance while hissing at the same time because the now cold water suddenly sloshed around his privates. Nevertheless, he took a few more courageous steps and paused when the water reached his belly button. A good distance away, Alistair burst to the surface, snorting and wiping the water from his face.   
"Come in, Edwin!"   
"That'll do, thank you," Edwin returned and began to wash. After several days under the scorching sun the lake was a real relief.   
"Come on!" Alistair swam closer and Edwin shook his head.   
"I can't swim."   
"No?" Surprised, Alistair paused.   
"No. Where I come from, the ponds are not big enough for swimming. And in Seven Hills they taught me all sorts of other nonsense, but not how to _swim_."   
Alistair laughed cheerfully and lightheartedly and Edwin felt strangely old, while Alistair enthusiastically suggested: "I could teach you."   
"I gratefully decline."   
"It's a useful skill."   
"Perhaps, but how many lakes do you think there are beneath these mountains?"   
Alistair, who had now come close enough to stand, shrugged. "Still useful, though." And then he reached out to let Edwin go down in a big wave. Edwin turned away and laughed.   
"Stop that. James is pissed enough that you wanted to take a bath _before_ practice."   
Alistair promptly began to sulk. "James shouldn't make such a fuss..."   
Edwin smiled and denied any further comments; the relationship between Alistair and James was tense in a way that seemed rather funny from the outside.   
"You're sunburned," Alistair then noticed and pointed to Edwin's face.   
"I know." Carefully he touched his nose and cheekbones, which felt hot and hurt under his wet and cold fingers. "You too."   
"It's nothing new," Alistair sighed and rubbed his neck where the burnt skin was peeling off. "Well, time to face my mentor..." But before Alistair left, his gaze was caught for a moment by the ring on Edwin's necklace. Edwin could almost read the questions on Alistair's forehead before the young man turned away, but he kept them to himself.

They did not talk about the dark red ring.   
They did not talk about Alistair's origin.   
They did not talk about James' team. Edwin's only problem was that he didn't know what kind of people he was going to be working with. However, he had read between the lines that James was worried about his team for whatever reason and it almost sounded as if he didn't want to talk about people who wouldn't be there at the end.

~

"You're getting really good."   
Alistair turned to Edwin and grinned exhausted, while Edwin gave him a smile. James growled approvingly and almost immediately began to peel away all the layers covering his skin.   
"I'll take the first watch," he said with a groan and threw his underpants away - they landed dangerously close to the fire, but Edwin would certainly not get up to save them; James was already stomping away towards the lake. His skin and tattoos shimmered from both the fire and the sunset light and Edwin could see the admiring look of Alistair, who also took off his clothes before he left for his second swim that day.

Edwin enjoyed the slowly cooling evening and the silence. The crickets in the tall grass sounded different from those at home. James came back quite quickly and dried off without hurry.   
"If we keep up the pace, it'll be two more days," he finally said, tearing Edwin from his dozy thoughts.  
"Good," he said simply, nodding to James, then shouting: "Alistair, it's time to come back!"  
"You really adopted him, hmm?" James smiled and Edwin raised a brow.   
"And you say that now because...?"   
"You're proud of him. Worried about him..."   
"This is what big brothers do."   
"Big brother, huh?" James' grin made Edwin roll his eyes.   
"Eight years age difference is a bit small. For you, it would be enough."  
That little pointy remark made James laugh. "Well, he's not _my_ bastard."   
"Do you have children?" Edwin then asked after a pause and saw from the corner of his eye how Alistair arrived dripping wet.   
"None that I know of. I won't even ask _you_ that. Boy, I told you not to-"   
"Yes, James." Alistair interrupted tiredly. It was actually a little bit of concern with which Edwin watched Alistair stagger as he dried off, dressed and then dropped tiredly beside him. They had been on the road for nearly four weeks now and while this was not enough time to get used to the physical efforts he was under, it was enough to really exhaust him. Since Alistair was definitely not able to keep the first watch, he got the morning watch and James had at some point freely admitted that while he found the morning chatter terrible he appreciated a certain amount of rest in the evening- most of all, Edwin thought, because it gave him time to enjoy his hand.

They ate in silence, as they almost always did. But when Edwin tried to reach for his prayer book, Alistair leaned heavily against him.   
"How long until the next bed?" he murmured.   
"Two or three days," James replied. Edwin could see he had his hand in his pants already, but he looked far too thoughtful.   
Alistair sighed.   
"But it looks as if you've already found your pillow," James then grumbled benignly and Alistair chuckled tiredly as he snuggled up to Edwin who had no choice but to put an arm around him. It was still too warm for such a gesture but he didn't protest and a little later James' fine smile told him that Alistair had already fallen asleep.  
"Was your big brother like that to you?"   
"I don't think you can compare," Edwin replied quietly. "After all, I was only 13 when I last saw him."   
"I don't think there's such a big difference." James shook his head. "Although... you definitely don't have to teach Alistair how to rub one out anymore."   
Edwin blushed. Alistair smelled clean but so strongly of apples that that's probably what he had done in the water. And yes, Erik had explained to him on his last visit what a penis was good for - with lots of illustrative stories about it.  
"No," Edwin said belatedly, "hardly." Gently he laid Alistair down on the ground and took a critical look at the two scars on his left arm. Both were in different stages of healing, both the young man owed to bandits. He had clearly improved, but his left side was still his weak point.   
Edwin sat back down and finally reached for his prayer book, but the side Alistair had just nestled up against suddenly felt quite empty.

~

At the name _'Golden City'_ Edwin had definitely imagined something different and the city sprawling in front of him below the hill left him pausing speechless. Inwardly, he scolded himself a fool, because after all, this was the only nomadic city here, originally intended as a fixed trading point and place of rest for the old and sick, but still the small houses with the flat roofs, which had the same yellow-brown color as the ground in this area, were a terribly disillusioning sight.

It didn't get any better as they approached the city, on the contrary. The city was chaotic, loud and stinky, at least three times as much as Seven Hills, although it was a quarter of the size at most. James had told him to cover his shield and put it on the packhorse, so that they looked like all the other mercenaries and the like, of whom there were surprisingly many here. It was a mess, dipped in uniform colors from the yellow-brown dust, and Edwin wanted to get out of here very quickly.   
"The Golden City is slowly developing into a second Port Freedom," James growled a little later and turned into a side street, where he dismounted a few meters further on. "Here we are." The house they stopped in front of was one of the few here that had a third floor, but was not really different from the others. A curtain of strings of pearls in the doorway, small windows from which dirty yellow prayer pennants hung, at least one cat in one of the window openings.   
"Come." On foot James led them a bit further, the side of the house turned into a wall and when the wall was breached by a gate Edwin realized that this was an inn with a stable. There were also two large trading carts in the yard and two young fellows rushed over from the shadows to take care of the horses without much ado.

Loaded with all their luggage, they finally entered the inn through the back door and Edwin blinked into the dim twilight. Near the door sat two groups - the smaller one was already having dinner, the larger one was having a muffled but intense discussion - and in a corner near the stairs sat at a table four people, who obviously were not nomads.   
"James, you fucking son of a bitch, you're back!" A living mountain rather than a man rose and gave James a bone-crushing hug.   
Edwin swallowed hard.   
"Let go of me, you crazy meatball," James laughed and was forced to let go of the luggage he was carrying. "Let go of me, Felix!"   
Felix grunted and complied with the request.   
"Where are the others?" James then wanted to know and suddenly the joy of reunion disappeared from the faces.   
Alistair next to Edwin made a slight uncomfortable sound.   
"Your sweetheart is sleeping," said the woman seriously. "Negotiating late into the night yesterday with horse traders."   
"And the others? The twins, Tra-"   
"Gone," was the short answer.   
"Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?" James seemed not so much surprised as confirmed in his fears.   
The woman cleared her throat. "The twins are dead."   
James' eyebrows went up. "Both of them?"   
"The infection ate Rory's whole arm and at some point, there was nothing left to cut off. Rudy... _honored_ him and then got drunk and started a fight with the city guard. They hanged him." The woman seemed bitter, Felix and the other two men were worried.   
Edwin's arms and shoulders began to protest under the poorly distributed weight of the luggage and slowly he put some of it down. The others didn't even seem to notice.   
"And Travis? Mike? Tris?"   
"Tris went to Silvershore- or at least that's what she said. Becky's death hit her harder than we thought. Travis and Mike wanted to go north- whatever that means."   
For a moment, the team was silent until James finally nodded.   
"Okay. Okay, so we can... Okay." He chewed visibly on his lower lip and then looked at Edwin and Alistair. "Guys, this is our support, sent out by the King himself. Edwin and Alistair."   
"Hello." Edwin said a little uncertain, a bit intimidated by the situation.   
"Hi," Alistair said, but even he didn't sound half as cheerful as usual and James introduced his people with sober words.  
Felix, the human mountain, had upper arms thicker than Edwin's thighs, was covered with tattoos and his voice sounded like stones rubbing against each other.  
Viv was the woman present, seemed unemotional and introduced herself as a water sorceress. Edwin had already seen paintings with more vivid faces than hers.  
Chris was a young man with short-cropped hair, wearing a strange leather-metal chest plate even in here, and seemed a bit strange to Edwin, although he couldn't say why.  
And then there was Steven who, despite the heat, was wearing a shirt with long sleeves and a high collar and whose face was red and scaly. He smiled shyly and when he greeted them his voice squeaked as if his voice was just breaking, even though he was probably a few years older than Edwin.  
 _James' girl_ remained nameless for now, but that was probably the least of the problems. They sat down at the big table and Felix, in a strange mixture of words from both languages, rumbled something to the innkeeper, whereupon a few minutes later the innkeeper himself and a young woman brought the food to the table. Baskets of flat bread, small bowls of herbal oil, something that looked like chopped onions and a white cream, even smaller bowls of spices, jugs of intensely smelling tea and a little later two plates of crispy meat.   
Edwin carefully tasted the unknown food, which was apparently eaten without hesitation with dirty fingers, and considered it good.

The silence, on the other hand, was rather uncomfortable and just as he was about to nudge Alistair, Chris asked:   
"How was the trip?" His voice was warm, soft, full and although he didn't smile, he sounded like he did.   
"Exhausting. Wet. Hot," Alistair said succinctly before shoving another bite of oil-soaked flat bread into his mouth.   
"That sums it up quite well," Edwin said, coaxing an apologetic smile. "Although you might add long and boring."   
"You think bandits are boring?" Alistair asked sceptically after he had swallowed the bite, well-behaved as he was.   
"Compared to dragons, anyway," Edwin returned, saw Alistair's face twisting and Felix asked growling:   
"You killed dragons?"   
"I was there."   
"Not a nice thing, hmm?"   
"Not really."   
"You're a knight, huh?" Chris asked next and Edwin nodded. Irritated, he saw the fine smile wrinkles around Chris' eyes as he grinned cheekily at him, as if the word _knight_ had been a special joke. On the other hand, Chris didn't look as if his cheeks had ever seen a razor.   
"What about you?" Alistair now asked back and politely poured tea to Edwin and Felix before filling his own cup.   
"What about us?" Felix asked over the rim of his cup.   
"Well... are you all treasure hunters?"   
"Treasure hunters, dragon slayers, mercenaries, deserters, murderers, thieves ... the list is long." Felix shrugged carelessly and Edwin tried not to make a disapproving face.   
"And you?" Chris nodded at Alistair, who made an empty gesture with a strange smile.   
"I guess my profession is that of a nobleman."   
To Edwin's amazement, Chris and Felix burst out laughing and Alistair grinned wryly.   
"Well, Stevie will be glad he's not the only one anymore able to write," Chris chuckled and Edwin asked in surprise:   
"The rest of you can't?"   
"Was a joke, little knight," Felix growled.   
"Oh."   
"Steven is - or should have been - a scholar."   
"It's called a running gag", Chris added.   
Edwin nodded and felt his cheeks getting warm under Chris' examining gaze.   
"When are we leaving?" Alistair asked and Edwin saw in his face the desire for a bath and a soft bed.   
"Depending on how the preparations go, tomorrow or the day after tomorrow." Slowly Edwin got the impression that Felix's voice was _always_ rumbling.   
"And from what-"   
"You make a noise as if you want to wake the dead." The smoky female voice made Edwin wince.   
"Mira!" James called out and jumped up.   
"James, my dear..."   
Edwin turned around. A small curvy woman with dark red hair came down the stairs light-footedly and was lifted up like a small child from the last step by James. They kissed deeply and someone cleared the throat.   
"Ah, right. Mira, this is Edwin and Alistair. Boys, this is my better half, Mira."   
"Hi." Alistair said and Edwin nodded silently, couldn't even manage a smile.   
Mira, on the other hand, smiled mischievously, saluted with two fingers, then sat down with James on his lap.   
Edwin's mouth was suddenly dry as dust, but he felt a fine tremble rise up inside him, so he didn't reach for the tea cup. Instead, he glanced at James and Mira, who were kissing so intensely you'd think they were about to turn the table into a bed.   
"Don't stare like an idiot," Chris said amused.   
"Staring is rude," Alistair added, raising an eyebrow in admonition, but sounding amused at the same time.   
"James guards his treasure quite jealously," Felix punched the same notch, but Edwin didn't comment. As calmly as he could, he reached for a new flatbread and tore off a piece.   
The woman trying to crawl halfway inside James was not just _Mira_ , but Mirabelle Josephine Elaine Mullen.   
Edwin's wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edwin's character profile: [click](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421858/chapters/66298412)


	8. The factor of time can be important for relationships in every respect

It was more or less three years since Edwin had last seen Mira. She had set off on a trip to relatives- and never arrived there. Playing the worried husband was easier than the happy one and he didn't need to fool anyone but his family anyway. Most married knights he knew were happy not to see their wives too often once the duty was done and a few children were fathered. Mira's sudden appearance as part of James' team was a shock. Big enough that he asked:   
"Is there alcohol here?" He had been drunk only once, back when he had to digest the shock of his engagement coming out of the blue.   
"Sure, it's damn hard stuff," Felix said and shouted something to the innkeeper. He came to them shortly afterwards with a small bottle and small glasses on a tray.   
"What do you want to toast to?" Steven asked curiously and James and Mira turned their attention to the others. Edwin didn't really want to toast at all, he just wanted to make sure he could fall asleep without spending hours imagining horror scenarios, but he put on a smile, lifted the filled glass and said far more cheerfully than he felt:   
"Here's to good teamwork and a successful mission."   
"Hear, hear!" Chris grinned, everyone else raised their glasses as well and James said:   
"To the team!"   
They drank and if there had been more in the glass than just a big gulp, Edwin would have spit the liquor across the table. The stuff was strangely sweet, but burned its way down into his stomach in a bestial way. He coughed.   
"Oh, damn!" Alistair gasped and while Edwin wiped tears from his eyes, Felix poured them on.   
"To past and future generations," he said roaring.   
"This is a very strange toast," Viv said critically.   
"Especially if it comes from you," James added with an audible grin.   
"I got it from a priest who got drunk on the sacramental wine," Felix returned amused and Edwin could just suppress a whimper when he swallowed the second liquor.   
"What is this stuff made of?" Alistair wanted to know with a grotesque grimace when Felix poured the third round - after that the bottle was fortunately empty.   
"Mostly from the juice of this reed..." Chris replied and glanced at Steven for help.   
"Sugar cane," he answered immediately and raised his glass. "To old and new knowledge."   
"To the Great Mother protecting us," Edwin murmured and saw his request granted, for his mouth was already well numbed so that the third glass hardly tickled.   
James slammed his glass on the table. "Okay, boys and girls, time for bed. I want to finish the preparations as soon as possible tomorrow and then leave town."   
"As if you're going to close one eye tonight," Chris mocked benignly and Mira grinned.   
"Sometime out of exhaustion, sure."   
The others laughed.   
She stood up and nodded to Edwin. "I'll get you a room."   
Edwin nodded and also rose to collect his luggage; Alistair followed him snuffling.

~

The room was small and extremely stuffy. Next to two beds there was a tiny table with an empty wash bowl on it and a lonely chair was pushed into a corner.   
Alistair almost immediately dropped his belongings so Edwin stumbled halfway over them.   
"Hey..." he protested half-heartedly, but Alistair was already struggling with the small window. Much more gently, Edwin put his stuff down and stretched before he lowered himself directly onto one of the beds and pulled the dusty boots off his feet.   
"Ha!", Alistair made triumphant and creaking the window opened - which did not make the misery any better.  
"And what have you won now?", Edwin wanted to know unimpressed.   
"I'm not going to choke on the smell of your feet."   
"Asshole!" Edwin threw a sock at Alistair, who dodged laughing. "As if you were any cleaner."   
"Well, rotten apples are better than rancid cheese." The bastard winked and Edwin threw the second sock at him, too.  
"Idiot..."   
But Alistair giggled again and sat down on the second bed, which creaked threateningly.   
For a moment Edwin closed his eyes. Great Mother, how did he deserve that Mira reappeared in such a situation? The always sober part of himself relentlessly told him that he had made a rather miserable husband, which would be reason enough, but on the other hand, Mira was obviously not a pitiable wife. _Divorce for adultery?_ If they survived this mission- and he was not convinced of this- he certainly got away with it.   
"Hey, Edwin, don't fall asleep while sitting," Alistair said into the relative silence and Edwin nodded before opening his eyes. Alistair was already naked and getting ready to go to bed. The alcohol caused Edwin's movements to become erratic, but taking off his shirt and pants was no great trick and he soon pulled the thin, scratchy blanket over himself.   
"Good night," Alistair said, blowing out the candle Mira had given them.   
"Night..." mumbled Edwin. Mira hadn't even looked surprised to see him again- as if she didn't know him at all. That was good for now, right?   
Alistair's bed creaked loudly and he moaned.   
"Do you really have to jerk off _every_ night?" Edwin murmured and was surprised about himself; it was probably the alcohol that loosened his tongue, half numb or not.   
"I'm _not_ ," Alistair grumbled over the crunch of his bed. "I'm just trying to find a comfortable position. This... _mattress_... is not worth its name."   
"Spoiled brat."   
"Not everyone can grow up in a backyard."   
"Cocky pig."   
"Oho! Maybe we should give you something to drink more often! Now there's fire in _AH!"_ Alistair's scream mingled with the bursting and splintering of wood and Edwin hopped out of bed.   
"Are you all right?" Without the candlelight it was pitch black in the room.  
"Yeah," Alistair grunted. " _Ow_. Shit. Damn it."

What followed could have been a bizarre stage play.   
Alistair, James, Felix and the innkeeper loudly discussed in the hallway whether Alistair got a new bed, whether they could have another room, whether there was a price reduction... or whatever. Thereby Felix was the only one who wore something like underpants. Pretty soon, members of the other two groups of guests started to interfere, complaining about the noise - all naked, too.   
Then Viv came along, just wrapped in a thin sheet, looked at the broken bed and shook her head - her magic was useless there.   
Edwin leaned in the doorway and watched, because he couldn't have slept with all that screaming anyway. Only when an elderly woman in a stained nightgown came down from the second floor and threatened the innkeeper- probably her husband or brother- with a lot of words, did he seem to give in. In a highly dramatic tone, as if his very existence was taken from him, he agreed not to charge for this room.   
With a shake of his head, Edwin turned away and slipped back into bed. Here in the south things probably went differently. He had just closed his eyes with a sigh when Alistair growled:   
"Move over a bit."   
"What?" "What, _what_? You're supposed to make some space."   
Edwin half turned. "What?"   
"Ed, I'm not sleeping on the floor, there's splinters of wood everywhere. It's a wonder I didn't take one."  
"But... but the bed is-"   
"Just move over!"   
Edwin slid a bit closer to the wall and his bed creaked protesting as Alistair joined in. "Beds don't like you."   
"Shut up."   
Edwin gave a protesting growl and bumped against the wall as he flinched from Alistair's touch.   
"The bed is not made for two," Alistair muttered yawningly; the rough, misshapen pillow crackled as he laid his head on it.   
"No kidding," Edwin mumbled. He prayed that whatever held this bed together would survive the night, for under the combined weight it did bend a little and Alistair, who must have fallen asleep almost immediately, slumped against him. "Alistair!"   
"Hmm?", he made in a way that made it clear that this was just an instinctive reaction.   
But before Edwin could formulate a complaint, Alistair was already nestling up against him and wrapped an arm around him. "Alistair! Stop it!" Too warm, sticky skin pressed against his bare back, hot breath burning in his neck. "Alistair!"   
Alistair's only reaction was to snuggle even closer to Edwin. He sighed in frustration.

~

Waking up with a morning boner between the legs was nothing unusual.   
That it was not his own, however, was new. And _wrong_ , considering that Edwin had gone to bed in underpants.   
"Alistair?" he asked quietly.   
Alistair grunted in reply and his beard scratched over Edwin's shoulder - despite the sticky heat in the room Edwin got goose bumps.   
"Alistair!"   
"...hmm?"   
"Are you awake?"   
"Hmm..."   
"What happened to my underpants?"   
Alistair didn't answer, or rather his answer consisted of letting his hand slide lightly across Edwin's chest and stomach to his crotch.   
Stunned by this downright brazen action, Edwin only reacted when Alistair tugged at his pubic hair - he knocked his hand away.   
"You have to shave, or else-" A yawn interrupted him, but Edwin said tense:   
"This has nothing to do with my question!"   
"You took it off at some point. You were warm," Alistair said and yawned again.   
"You're a damn furnace!"   
"Sorry, not sorry."   
Edwin flinched as Alistair patted his thigh and moved in a way that his penis rubbed against Edwin's testicles and then poked into them. "Could you please stop with the pseudo-intimacies?"   
"Pseudo-intimacies?" Alistair groaned and seemed to sit up. Anyway, Edwin now had room enough to sit as well. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alistair looked at him halfway over his shoulder and he literally felt cornered. Just as Alistair opened his mouth, it banged on the door.   
"Hey! Sleeping beauties! Breakfast," James roared with an audible bad mood.

~

"Does anyone have any objections to the plan?" James wanted to know and Edwin swallowed his objections because James didn't look like he was going to stand for a good discussion. A slight nod from James later he left the guest room with Felix and Steven through the back door while Viv, Alistair and Chris went through the front door. Edwin remained alone with Mira.   
"Come on, let's pack our bags. Knowing James, he won't hesitate for long. Especially not with the mood he's in."   
"What... what's going on? With James, I mean?" Edwin asked hesitantly and followed Mira to the other floor.   
"It hit him hard that our group shrank so much," she replied with a sigh.   
"Hmm. I understand," Edwin mumbled and thought of his knight brothers. Although they were not as close as this squad here, the loss of many of them would be hard to digest. They entered the room opposite the one Edwin and Alistair had slept in and Mira nodded to the bed next to the door.

Strangely wordless, they set to work. Edwin had stopped being shy when it came to packing other people's things years ago, after all they were comrades with him. But the fact that Mira didn't say anything at all made him nervous after a while. Did she not want to say anything? Or maybe she had suffered some kind of amnesia and didn't even know him anymore? But shouldn't she then try to get to know him?   
"You're not saying anything," she suddenly said and he flinched.   
"What am I supposed to say?" he wanted to know and turned halfway around, a crumpled shirt- judging by the size from Steven- in his hand.   
"I don't know. _Something_." Mira shrugged and then lowered her gaze, a strange smile on her face which almost immediately turned into a guilty grimace. "Well... talking's never been our strong suit, has it?"   
"Probably not," he agreed with a slight shake of his head. And then he backed away as she came towards him, but he bumped against the bed and was surprised at himself that he returned her hesitant embrace anyway.   
"Sorry. That I messed up your life, I mean," she said softly against his chest.   
"You didn't." It was a strangely automatic polite response and she promptly gave him a pat on the back.   
"Liar."   
"Adulterer."   
"Gotcha." With a wry grin, she took a step back and inspected him. "Have you found someone you can be happy with?" she wanted to know and sounded honestly interested, almost worried.   
"You haven't been gone long enough to declare you dead and thus make me a widower," he said evasively. Her question was probably logical, but in his eyes he hadn't had the time to think about any flirtations at all. Especially since he hadn't met too many women either.   
She nodded slowly and then pulled the necklace unerringly out of his collar. "So you carry it with you..."   
"I am a married man, Mira. I may not be a good husband, but I am nevertheless respectable," he returned with a slight frown and she let go of the necklace, a crooked smile on her face.   
"Of course. Why do I doubt a man who wanted to become a priest?"   
"Stop mocking me." If he hadn't known how much she was head over heels in love at that time, he would probably have found the metal-bound prayer book as her wedding gift a mockery. He still wasn't sure if it was supposed to be some kind of apology.   
She stepped back, hesitated and then turned back to their task. "What news do you have from home?" she then asked casually.   
To avoid any perhaps misinterpretable affiliations, he said neutrally: "Evelyn is having her third child in a few weeks." He folded a pair of pants.   
"I thought she only wanted one."   
"Accidents happen."   
"That sounds extremely harsh..."   
"These were her own words concerning her son. His name is Erik, by the way."   
"Erik... Oh, my goodness..." Mira snorted.

They talked to each other, chatted outright - this had never happened in all these years. But despite all the unanswered feelings and later tension that had been there, there was a certain lightness now which relieved Edwin incredibly.   
Finally, when he closed one of James' bags, Steven burst in.   
"Have you finished?"   
"Yup," Mira said lightly.   
"Good, 'cause the horses just need to be loaded." Steven was bright red in the face and seemed a bit rushed, but he gave Edwin a happy smile, which he returned involuntarily.   
Meanwhile, Mira stepped to the window and yelled: "Hey you dumbasses! Get your ugly faces up here and help with the luggage!"   
"Ey! I'm the only one here who's allowed to insult!" James yelled back.   
"And what do you dream about at night?"   
"You, my beauty."   
Mira laughed and Edwin had to smile. With Steven out of sight, he quietly said:   
"You're happy."   
"Yes, and I wish you the same happiness with all my heart."


End file.
